The Adventures of Team Parker

I finally decided to drop in to the Tai Chi class that they have here at Wolfson. I’ve been meaning to go since I first saw the posters in the corridors at Bredon House but I was also apprehensive because I know that there are many different forms of Tai Chi and many different styles. I knew there was slim chance that they’d be doing Yang Style Tai Chi that looked anything like what I’d been taught.

Tonight we meant to go to the little TV room to watch the Arsenal/Milan match but when I got there it was already crowded with people and smelling strongly of sweat and dinner breath. So I thought, well, the Lee Seng Tee hall is just around here and the Tai Chi class must just have started, so I might as well drop in and see what it’s like.

When I got there, there were two guys doing some co-operative movements together. I’d seen this in books and on TV before but we’d never actually done it in our class. The teacher, a man called Dan, came over to speak to me and told me about his teacher who was from Venezuela, and who had learned from a Tai Chi master who’s name I can’t remember. He explained that following the paired exercise, they’d be doing a short 36 step form and then a longer 124 form. Well, we did a 24 and a 48 form for starters so I knew there was going to be some new stuff here.

After a brief tea break (with little handle-less Chinese cups) they started the 36 form. The movements looked familiar and I recognized the names that Dan was calling out – Single Whip, Part the Horses Mane, Wave Hands Like Cloud. All of this was familiar and yet put together in combinations that I had never seen. I found myself taking note of the way they held their bodies, the fluidity of their hand movements, checking to see if their heads moved in the same direction as their bodies.

I realize that I was being critical, perhaps too harshly. But my Sifu, Xia Ke Hxiong, was a hard act to follow. You’d have to be, to become Jet Li’s stunt double. He’d been training since he was a small child, done all sorts of marshall arts, and he moved with such grace. We would sometimes ask him to do Chen Style moves for us and he would smile and start the slow, liquid moves that exploded into kicks, punches. It was like watching a movie. We were sometimes frustrated with his lack of English but after watching this class I realized there’s only so much instruction anyone can really give on how to do what needs to be done. Even Dan here, who is British, went about saying things like “Slowly”, “Prepare for the Whip”, and “Guard your neck”. Sifu was the same, except for every form he named, he said “Slow” five times.

I also realized that there was something more to the way I was feeling. Even if I took this class, it would never give me what I got from my Saturday morning classes at St Joseph’s. I felt a great sadness for the Saturday mornings that I used to have, driving to St Joseph’s alone, waiting outside the hall for the rest of the class to arrive, the yellow, morning light filtering in through the high windows at the hall, with it’s dusty and worn wooden floors. I remember the music from Sifu’s cassette player coming through softly, calming us all, setting the tempo of our movements, the way we would all move together concentrating on our movements and positioning, the shifting of our weight, yet at the same time feeling our minds relax and wander. You would notice a movement to one side and realize that yes, you were centered within yourself but were also surrounded by others. I always left Tai Chi with a great sense of peace. And that is something that I can never have again. Any other class and I would probably criticize their lack of style and grace, the music (if there even is music), or if not that, find that there are too few people or too many, it’s too cold, it’s not bright enough, it’s at the wrong time of day. Really what I want is to return to that moment in time, which was always perfect. The classes at St Joseph’s stopped running before I even left Cape Town cause it had too few students, but there are still classes in Athlone, Sea Point, and Durbanville. But this is moot, since I’m now moving to Johannesburg. So those lovely, peaceful Saturday mornings are something that will be consigned to memory, lost in time forever.